Free-range

"CHICKENS, well, chickens are afraid of you," says Matthew Jamieson
of Sunforest organics, somewhat disparagingly. "Ducks, well, they
really look at you all the time. That's hard, really hard,"
he adds, as if the beady eye of one too many ducks has fixed him
against the electric fence. "But turkeys, they have it all. They'll
come and stand around you, they want to be part of what's going on.
They're friendly, inquisitive. When you want to shift them, they
just herd themselves."

You have to be right into the topic to grow turkeys, especially
the organic kind. Perhaps that's why there are only two certified
organic turkey growers in the nation. Jamieson, as one of them, has
run ducks and still runs a few chickens, so he knows the
personalities of the different poultry well. You can tell from his
tone he has a real soft spot for turkeys. "When they're little, we
put heaters on for them and leave the lights on in sheds," he
explains, like a proud parent. After a three-week stint indoors,
they're free to roam. "Turkeys are really happy to sleep outside
but when they're young they can't sleep out in the rain. It changes
so quickly up here, we have to encourage the young ones to sleep
inside."

"Up here" is the hilly district between Byron Bay and Bangalow,
on a 40-hectare property with remnant rainforest and, lately, a lot
of mud. When I spoke to Jamieson, he'd just come in from taking
care of his 1200 or so turkeys that roam around the property. "It's
hilly and difficult when it rains," he says. "The turkeys take it
just fine, it's us that struggle with it."

I'm surprised to be talking to a turkey farmer, only because for
a long while I thought the bird overrated - dry, a bit boring and
just a little more work for less result than a very good chicken.
Then I ate a Sunforest breast with ricotta and chard stuffed under
the skin and became an instant convert. This was meat with real
texture, a big, white breast with a deep flavour and, the way it
was cooked, it virtually dripped with moisture.

The texture, at least, is no accident. Free-range birds,
especially slow-grown organic ones, develop much better meat. If
Jamieson has a soft spot for the birds, he's got a very soft spot
for their meat.

"On a young bird, the breast meat is pink, almost translucent.
As it gets older it gets firmer, whiter. The soft fat on a hen is
delicious but the fat around a tom's breast makes it taste
wonderful."

Jamieson is no stranger to bush life. He grew up on a farm in
central Queensland, the son of an artist father (the esteemed Gil
Jamieson) and a mother who kept about 80 turkeys as a hobby. He
trained in entomology, as a parasitologist, but ended up running
environmental blockades in Tasmania in the 1980s. For a while he
tried farming back in Queensland but the rain didn't fall, so he
moved to Byron seven years ago. He started with ducks, producing a
marvellous product, he says, but there wasn't any money in it. Now
he produces chickens for the local market and turkeys that also go
further afield. He's a small producer, with only 15 or so birds
going to slaughter each week. One of his staff usually does the
processing.

The turkeys are free to roam, are given access to paddocks on
rotation, nibbling the tops of the noxious kikuyu grass, following
cattle into paddocks to peck for grubs. The whole operation is
certified organic, including the peach orchard that the gobblers
also get to forage in, looking for insects and keeping the grass
cover down. They also get organic grains, mostly wheat. Despite
such a varied diet and the fact they eat more, Jamieson reckons his
turkeys are slower growing than their conventional, less-active
counterparts. It takes 16 weeks for them to get a dressed weight of
5-6 kilograms, and 25 weeks to reach a whopping 15 kilograms.

Raising turkeys has not been without trouble. They can fly a few
metres in the air, especially when young, but electric fences tend
to keep them in. After attacks by sea eagles, white goshawks and
the powerful owl, Jamieson had to do something to protect the
turkeys from threats in the air, as well as the usual problems with
foxes and dogs.

It's then he welcomed maremmas, the Italian dog breed famed as a
fierce protector of flocks. In Australia, they're sometimes used
with chickens rather than the customary sheep.

"Without the maremmas, the whole enterprise would be hopeless,"
Jamieson says. "We have geese in with the turkeys, too," he adds,
as a backstop. "The dogs can get a bad temperament if we've changed
paddocks or they've been up too late or whatever. And they like to
sleep. If geese aren't happy 24 hours a day, everybody knows about
it."

It sounds like geese would even give the evil-eyed ducks a run
for their money.

Sunforest Turkeys retail for about $18 a kilogram. Phone
Sunforest on 6684 7074. You can buy the turkeys at the Byron
Farmers Market, or in Sydney try (be sure to phone ahead) Naturally
Organic in Neutral Bay, 9904 3333, or Granny Smith in Wahroonga,
9489 9188.

Matthew Evans

Barn

WE CRUNCH down a gravel road past half a dozen white hangar-like
sheds. There is an unusual sweet smell in the air. Beyond the sheds
is a dam backed by green fields, bush and a low line of hills. This
is Rita and Tony Pace's turkey farm in Bargo, near Camden.

The Paces grow turkeys for Ingham, the company that produces
most of Australia's turkey. On average, Australians tuck into only
1 kilogram of turkey a person each year, mostly consumed during one
week at Christmas. In contrast, each of us will eat 30 kilograms of
chicken in one year. In the US, consumption of chicken and turkey
is on par, and Ingham is hoping to bump up Australian consumption
with a mid-winter release of a new range of cuts to entice us to go
beyond the Christmas roast. Ingham, also big in chicken, is hoping
that any increase in turkey consumption is at the expense of lamb,
beef or pork, not chook.

The Paces own just one of 23 farms contracted to grow turkeys
for Ingham. Ingham owns the turkeys and supplies the feed; the
Paces own the sheds and are paid per square metre of shed, not per
turkey. In each shed are 11,000 turkeys, each one at a different
stage in the production from day-old "poults" to factory-ready
"brawlers".

In the bottom shed, 5000 male turkeys, called toms, and 6000
females are just days away from the start of collection. The
females will be picked up first and taken to the processing plant
just down the road at Tahmoor, leaving the males some space to grow
even bigger.

The double doors on the shed are pulled back and a wave of dust
and feathers escapes in the draught. Suddenly there's noise but not
of gobbling - turkeys don't gobble until they get older than this
lot. They flock forward, an undulating wave of bald pink heads,
beady black eyes and white bodies. It's hard to see any of the wood
shavings that cover the floor: it's dense with turkey. Ingham
maintains a maximum shed density of 40 kilograms per square metre,
and that's what we're looking at. Incredibly, the turkeys stop
abruptly at the step to the outside world. None makes a dash for
freedom.

These turkeys are Nicholas whites. The genetic material is
imported from the US as eggs that are hatched under such stringent
quarantine conditions even the air is triple-filtered before being
released. The quarantine-born turkeys then go on to produce the
eggs which hatch into chicks delivered, one day old, to farms.

Nicholas whites have been bred to deliver the fastest possible
growth and the maximum feed conversion. Feed conversion is what the
business is all about, explains Simon Crabb, Ingham's general
manager for the turkey division. It takes 2 kilograms of feed to
grow 1 kilogram of chicken meat and a little over 2 kilograms of
feed to grow 1 kilogram of turkey meat. It's a figure that has been
getting lower during the years, allowing turkey prices to fall and
profitability to go up. The flavour of the meat is not an issue,
just the speed and cost of producing it.

The feed used by Ingham is a mix of grain - no hormones, growth
promoters or antibiotics are added. The birds are treated with
antibiotics only if diagnosed with a bacterial disease. The feed
changes over time, starting with high protein levels to promote
strong skeletal growth. It results in female turkeys being ready
for processing in just 70 days, and male turkeys in 116 days, when
they'll weigh in at 15 kilograms each.

After the turkeys are taken to processing, the Paces spend
2½ days cleaning the shed thoroughly, from floor to rafters,
before starting the cycle again.

"You have to be able to eat your meal off the floor," says Rita,
whose passion for a clean slate extends to the grass between the
sheds, meticulously mown and weed-free. And all this time spent
cleaning up after turkeys hasn't put her off eating them.

For the record, they are no relation to the other poultry Paces,
the egg producers. "Pace," Rita shrugs. "It's 'Smith' in
Malta."

The overwhelming impression is of cleanliness and order, factory
farming at its most benign. The birds, which we weren't allowed to
photograph, are housed in clean, light, well-ventilated sheds with
all the food and water they need. There are strict controls to
prevent salmonella and E. coli breakouts and no dangers to the
birds from foxes, feral cats or goannas. Selective breeding,
controlled production and economies of scale mean Ingham can sell
turkey for about $8 a kilogram in supermarkets and some
butchers.

1214073129243-smh.com.auhttp://www.smh.com.au/news/good-living/were-you-raised-in-a-barn/2008/06/23/1214073129243.htmlsmh.com.auSydney Morning Herald2008-06-24Were you raised in a barn?Matthew Evans and Robin Powell look at the journey two very
different turkeys make to your table.EntertainmentGoodLivinghttp://www.smh.com.au/ffximage/2008/06/23/turkey_narrowweb__300x450,0.jpg